I said my goodbyes to everyone last night to everyone at the hostel, despite my, and it's (the hostel's) transient nature, the inhabitants had become my family, as did the town and the Moros off punta de Lobos. I had gained new eyes for this place, an incite that made the outside everything I could ever ask for.
I've become a very recognisable character in Pichilemu under the name "Woody" with my alias in hand or under foot.
This wasn't goodbye forever, I knew my travels would bring me back here some day soon and with a little more time and spanish to soak up the bliss.
I was lucky enough to hitch a ride into Santiago with Nico and Carito, both amazing people whom I very much look forward to seeing again.
I stayed that night in a hostel in santiago, I didn't sleep at all; restless in a wave-fillled haze; was I making the right decision in heading further south? I'm a water kid, should I really trading everything I had for mountains and the unknown. Apparently man thrives in living in the unknown, so the next morning early I called a taxi and headed to santiago international airport, put my boards in storage, a bad idea if you're thinking of doing it, as it is COSTLY.
From there the whole world changed, me a 35litre backpack and my guitar. This would be my life for the next 2 weeks. Right now I'm sitting at my gate about to board my plane to Punta Arenas.
normally I'd be full of excitement, but right now I'm just missing pichilemu. I wonder what the next 2 weeks will hold.
I made some contacts for my return to Santiago, a beautiful girl from ireland has offered me a meal and warm blanket upon my return. the simple things - exactly what I'll treasure after whatever might be ahead.